Six weeks
by Kingster
Summary: Sometimes people just don't feel like having sex. Or so Sam says. Could it be true, this... outrageous claim?


Author: Kingster

Title: Six weeks

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Sam/Dean

Rating: R

Spoilers: No spoilers

Warnings: Implied incest

Summary: Sometimes people just don't feel like having sex. Or so Sam says. Could it be true, this... outrageous claim?

:::

It has been six weeks and four days since they've last come together.

---

The first week, Dean didn't really think much about it, but by the end of the third week he was actually a little worried and tried talking to Sam about it.

"Nothing's wrong, Dean. I just don't want to have sex right now."

"So with 'right now', d' you mean 'right now, this minute' or more 'right now, in this time of my life'? Cause, you know, there's a difference, and..."

"Relax, Dean," Sam said, and fell into his book again.

---

Fourth week he tried to beg. The old-fashioned way. On his knees, hands woven together.

"Is this how you want to see your brother?!" he asked and put on his saddest face.

"Absolutely not," Sam laughed, and turned his back to him. "Why don't you just buy a subscription to BustyAsianBeautys?" he added.

"It's not the same," Dean muttered.

---

Fifth week he found a beautiful blonde and went home with her, only to find out that now matter how fucking hot she was, it didn't feel right. Whatever that means. He had to tell her sorry and put his clothes back on, and felt like a complete idiot.

"Maybe you should talk it through with this girl you obviously have on you mind?" the girl asked him as she followed him out. Then she kissed him on the cheek, and Dean thought he was going to die of embarrassment right there.

"Yeah, maybe," he said meekly and said sorry one more time before leaving.

---

Sixth week, he stopped trying. He didn't know how much more rejection he could take. All attempts to talk, or even the smallest touch was just shrugged off by Sam.

"Not now, Dean."

"This 'now', is it going to last forever, or what," Dean muttered, grabbed his jacket and left. As he closed the door he cursed himself for being such a fucking dick , and decided to quit trying. Obviously, Sam didn't want it anymore. It was an extreme letdown and relief at the same time. He went for a walk yo let it sink in.

When he came back, Sam was fast asleep. Dean brushed his teeth, and sat down on Sam's bed.

"I leave you alone now, Sammy," he whispered, turned off the light on the nightstand and went to bed.

:::::

They're somewhere in Wisconsin. On a local diner with turquoise and red interior that gives Dean headache. He's been without sex before, much longer periods. But it is the part about not trying that kills him. He's used to putting a great deal of effort into getting sex, and repressing that, he feels dull and grey.

They eat quietly. Sam reads a local newspaper, Dean reads the menu. Over and over again. It matches the interior. Suddenly, one of Sam's feet finds his.

"Sorry," Dean says automatically and moves away, thinking that he occupies too much space under the table.

"Don't apologize," Sam says. "I did that on purpose."

"Okay," Dean says lamely without looking up from the menu.

"Dean?"

"Mhm?"

A hand waves in front of his face, and Dean looks up.

"Now," Sam says quietly.

Deans headache is gone in a second when he realizes what might be going on.

"Now what?" he asks cautiously.

Sam leans in, and Dean is pretty sure there is a look in his eyes he hasn't seen in weeks.

"NOW," Sam whispers.

Warmth washes over Dean in waves. "Like... right now?"

Sam nods.

Dean raises one hand and asks for the bill. They count up money, and as soon as the bill comes to the table, they're out. Their motel is just a few blocks away. They walk in silence. Dean's heart is beating faster and faster, and when Sam suggest to race each other up the stairs on when they reach the motel (they live on third floor), it's a relieving physical outlet. It feels like he runs for his life up those stairs, still everything is in slow motion. He runs past Sam just when they enter the third floor with some heathy use of an elbow.

"Hey, that's cheating, no elbows!" Sam yells, and grabs a hold of Deans jacket and tries to yank him away from the door. Dean still wins. He also has the key so that works out fine, and Sam starts undressing him the second the door is shut behind them. And for reasons unknown to God, mankind, and Dean in particular, the only thing he manage to think and say is: "Uh, Sam. Wait."

Sam looks at him with a puzzled look and discreetly takes his hands off Deans belt buckle.

"Is... something wrong?"

"Yeah. We haven't had sex for almost seven weeks now."

"I guess not," Sam shrugs.

"You guess not?!"

"...No?"

Dean have to turn away. If he keeps looking at Sam he's gonna either cry or hit something, neither which will benefit him or his sex life in any way.

"I've been... sad."

"Yeah, I've noticed you've been a little cranky, but you get like that sometimes for no reason," Sam says, and hangs up his jacket on a back of a chair and sits down on one of the beds.

"No," Dean tries to explain. "No, I've been sad. Not backed up-cranky or desperate, but really sad. So... what's been going on with you, really?"

"Nothing. I just haven't felt like having sex."

Dean turns to look at Sam cause he have to see how Sam looks when he says this weird, weird thing.

"Say again?"

"Dean. It happens, believe me. Sometimes you just don't feel like having sex."

Dean scoffs. "Who is this 'you' you talk about?"

"YOU. The royal you. 'People'. Sometimes people just don't feel like having sex."

"And it's not cause you're angry with me, or tired of me, or something like that?"

"No, nothing like that," Sam gets up. He walks up to Dean and tilts his head a little looks at him with an amused look. "Jesus, man. Don't worry."

Dean is not convinced.

"I really like your 'I'm not buying this crap'-look," Sam laughs. "It's very cute."

"Watch your mouth, Sammy," Dean warns.

Sam grins and points at Deans belt-buckle. "D' you want me to continue what I was doing?"

Dean tries to be strong. For the sake of principles.

"Nooo..." he says hesitantly, but it doesn't sound like a no at all. More like a yes.

Sam lays a hand on his chest and pushes him lightly towards the closest bed.

"That was a yes, wasn't it?" Sam asks.

"No!" Dean insists. For the sake of principles, damnit! For the sake of all those people that has lived and suffered sex weeks without sex for no other reason than their partner just dont 'feeling like having sex right now'. He needs to be strong!

But then... another light push. And an annoyingly wide smile from Sam as Dean falls back on the soft bed.

Damned principles.

:::

Thank you for reading! All comments welcome.


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